


Broken Things

by dragongummy



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, AU where Daenerys left early and Khal Drogo let her, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sexy Times, bottom!Khal Drogo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2235516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongummy/pseuds/dragongummy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Khaleesi left, only Jorah was allowed to comfort the Khal. He was more than happy to oblige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Things

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, I'm not sorry it's like 4 am and I've been watching the first season and I'm currently on like my 10th bottle of water and Im drinking beer too and eating bread and IDEK what happened  
> its just no one ever writes Khal Drogo on the bottom and i needed it to happen somehow omg you guys im so hyper on beer and water and bread and cheese puffs come save me

Jorah had made the first move and the Khal was almost too earnest for it when drunk on whatever it was the Dothraki drank (he never quite figured it out and never dared to ask). Khal Drogo let Jorah spread his tanned thighs and slip his fingers between them and deep inside where he knew no one had touched before. He always fought to keep his intensely brown eyes focused on him, with his hands squeezing on Jorah's still clothed shoulders and his long legs bracketing where he would kneel between them. But whenever Jorah would let his nails scrape against his inner thighs, run the back of his fingers up his chest, his eyes would close and Jorah would push him down to the bed.

Sometimes all it took was his fingers. He learned to push just right and deep enough to get Khal Drogo to squirm under him (which was a sight to behold, he'll have you know). Sometimes it took more. It took a rough fucking from the front after he'd returned from a battle, because Jorah had always refused to have that face turned away from him, with hair pulling and biting to give the Khal what he needed. Some nights it took a slow fuck, and those nights he enjoyed the most because Khal Drogo was the most responsive.

The Khal let him in his tent because he'd have to. He would let him run his hands up those rippling muscles and allow Jorah to push him down onto the bed skins as he opened him up. Slowly, of course, as was Jorah's way. These were the nights where Khal Drogo would arch his body and grip at his arms when he was close, hold back his sounds of pleasure for as long as he could. Jorah let him, because it was never too long until his lips were centimeters away from Khal's own and those sounds would emerge from that beautiful mouth that he drank up with his. And what he couldn't do with his messy kisses he did with his own body. Pushing against the divots in Khal Drogo's lower back when his hips would falter to Jorah's thrusting. Licking his palm and gripping his Khal in his hand. Holding his neck while he ravished his nipples in between thrusts until he felt the body under him stiffen. Only then would he press their bodies as close as possible to the bed and ride Khal Drogo to a slow and intense orgasm with casual, hard and deep thrusts that he refused to speed up. And even as he pressed his palm to Drogo's stomach during his release, even if Drogo squeezed his wrist on the side of pain, he didn't care if he got to see him shudder underneath him. Impaled on him. Skin on skin and all that body for him. He never let Drogo have a moment without pleasure. It was the rule, the one rule that he had.

Because if the mighty Khal Drogo lets _him_ do this, lets _him_ fuck him, then he'll fuck him. _He'll ruin him._


End file.
